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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27136655">A Hard Day's Night</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Background_Foxe/pseuds/Background_Foxe'>Background_Foxe</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Sex, Bickering, Explicit Sexual Content, Incest, Light BDSM, M/M, Rimming, Top Dean Winchester/Bottom Sam Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 06:41:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,459</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27136655</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Background_Foxe/pseuds/Background_Foxe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The boys wake up in the morning to find themselves in bed together bearing marks and aches that leave little to the imagination on what they’d got up to the night before. They hurriedly start an investigation, only to discover that whatever need drove them last night might not have fully vanished</p><p>Canon-divergent, set in the bunker, a few liberties taken to ease the way (if you pardon the phrasing). Usual sex and sarcasm applies</p><p>Quote Prompt Memes request</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>249</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Quote Prompt Memes</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Hard Day's Night</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">



        <li>In response to a prompt by
            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/WoeyLeaf/pseuds/WoeyLeaf">WoeyLeaf</a>  in the  <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/collections/quoteonlyprompts">quoteonlyprompts</a>
          collection.
        </li>
    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>
  <strong>Prompt:</strong>
</p><p>"Y'know this isn't something really to be ashamed of..."</p><p> " Really..? Have you seen this!? "</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>*</p><p>It was morning. Well, probably. His head throbbed, his body ached and he was slowly gaining the confidence to open his eyes from what appeared to be a dreamless sleep. Not that his eyes were cooperating with this plan, of course. They seemed to be welded shut, more than happy with the current arrangement, and Dean groaned softly in the back of his throat which seemed to be the most appropriate thing to do.</p><p>Shifting his body identified more information. One, he was completely naked. This was neither unusual nor normally a problem, unless he woke up in the middle of a park or a library or something else particular public. Two, he was not alone, and not in the Twilight Zone type of woo way, but in a ‘warm, human body that wasn’t his’ way. This again, was not normally a problem, although a little more unusual for the ‘waking up with’ part. However, he couldn’t for the life of him remember who, and from the occasional touches that body seemed to be .. well, large. Lean and muscular. <i>Solid</i>.</p><p>It might be morning but it was never too early for a bad feeling about this.</p><p>Slowly, reluctantly, he opened his eyes and squinted to the side of him. And that was definitely not a stranger, that was definitely his little brother, and little Sammy was equally just as naked and just as passed out as Dean had been a few minutes ago. Dean focused on his own body and discovered that his leg was hooked over Sam’s intimately, remembering that his arm had also been happily wrapped around his brother’s waist only a few moments ago.</p><p>His heart sank quicker than a critically overfed duck. Awesome. Just… awesome.</p><p>Groaning softly, Dean rolled slightly and let his head fall back onto the pillow as he stared up at the ceiling. At least it <i>was</i> their ceiling, his room ceiling in fact, the one in the bunker that he’d so lovingly crafted and had begun to call it home. He couldn’t hear any shouts or screams or any awooga alarms that suggested something horrible had entered, and his room seemed an unlikely place for accidentally opening up some weird shit bottle full of woowoo horror and nastiness. </p><p>And yet… Sam. Naked Sam. </p><p>Dean risked another glance and found his heart finding a whole new deep sea rift to sink to. Naked Sam with various interesting bruises on his body, and sure, some of those were the standard cuts and scrapes that they obtained during their day to day missions, but he couldn’t remember the last event where either of them were either bitten by blatantly human teeth, or indeed sucked based on a few darker purple splotches. </p><p>He digested that for a little while longer and then had to stare at the ceiling again. He wasn’t going to look at his own body. No way. It was bad enough knowing that his back felt like a cat had decided to walk up it, and his inner thigh muscles were aching in an ‘over exercised’ way, and there were a few more aches that were hard to define and-</p><p>-and this point Sam decided to stir, a soft, delicate moan from one so large, and Dean felt like an absolute bastard.</p><p>For a moment there was a different sort of silence as Sam opened his eyes. Dean groaned internally and screwed his eyes shut again. His head hurt on so many levels it could challenge the average skyscraper, and the amount of silence coming from Sam’s side was painful. </p><p>Finally.</p><p>“...Dean?” it was soft, as though they were trying not to wake a parent in the other room.</p><p>“Mm.”</p><p>“Uh. Do you remember last night?”</p><p>Dean opened his eyes slowly and winced. “...no.”</p><p>Another spot of silence. They were getting good at it. Dean shifted position and felt another stab in his inner thigh where he’d clearly pulled a muscle through some type of activity, and man, he did not want to speculate on exactly what the hell he was doing at that point. Sam had also rolled himself into a better position, still not looking directly at him, with a concentrated, quizzical look up at the ceiling as though that might have all the answers.</p><p>“I think..,” Sam said, and it was the slow, slightly pained voice of someone exploring a subject that had the potential of severe complications. “... we might have.. Uh.”</p><p>“If by ‘uh’ you mean fucked, then yeah.” Dean replied gloomily.</p><p>“Yeah.” Sam squinted at the ceiling again and then slowly pushed himself up, wincing as he did so before looking in absolute bewilderment at his left bicep. “Did you… did you <i>bite</i> me?!”</p><p>“I have no idea.” Dean scrubbed his face with a hand and slowly pushed himself up, settling back against the headboard and casting a look at his brother who was taking stock of the exact state of his body. Scratches, bites, cuts, couple of hickeys, some fantastic bruises that seemed suspiciously hand shaped.. Dean winced internally. </p><p>“Pretty sure your fingernails need cutting,” Sam added, twisting slightly on the bed to take a better look at the scratched surface that was his left ass-cheek before hissing softly as his body clearly disliked the movement. There was another look of shocked realisation on Sam’s face before he stared back at Dean incredulously.</p><p>“You-,”</p><p>Dean had been wondering how long it would take for Sam to realise who had been the receiver and, as suspected, his little brother wasn’t best pleased by the answer.</p><p>“Well, I am kinda in charge,” he protested, weakly. Sam growled softly and winced again as his ass complained about rough treatment. Dean watched him as he continued his exploration, clearly trying to work out why certain areas ached. Whatever happened, apparently they had a damned good time, and apparently he was definitely the fucker rather than the fuckee. Sam gave him another little look, a slightly sulky one that he hadn’t seen since he’d pinched Sam’s fries when he was twelve, and Dean couldn’t help but chuckle softly at that. Man, he’d missed that pout. </p><p>“M’sorry, okay? I can’t remember any of it.” he shifted position and winced himself. “And my dick feels like it’s been battered.”</p><p>“Yeah, that’s a kink of mine,” Sam replied straight faced, and then grinned slightly at Dean’s expression coming the other way. “It’s not. Although I should be grateful you remember I’m old enough for sex, sometimes I wondered whether you still think I’m ten.”</p><p>Sam pushed himself up and moved toward a full length mirror, turning to the right slightly to gain a better look.</p><p>“Jesus, Dean..,”</p><p>"Y'know this isn't something really to be ashamed of..." Dean tried. Sam gave him a look that could melt icebergs and ruin polar bears’ days.</p><p>“Really..? Have you <i>seen</i> this!?” he turned again to show off three lines across his ass cheek from Dean’s nails, looking all the world like a stereotypical werewolf mark. </p><p>“To be honest, that just looks like a good session,” Dean protested. “And it’s your ass, Sammy, who are you planning to flash that off at? Unless you’re planning to walk around the bunker naked, and even then it’s not as though you’re gonna scandalise the neighbours. We don’t have any, remember?”</p><p>Sam aimed another hard look at him and Dean sighed softly. “Yeah, okay. M’sorry. Didn’t you put up cameras a few weeks ago? Let’s just rewind and find out what happened, yeah?”</p><p>Having slipped gingerly out the bed, he was aware of Sam’s gaze on his lower half. Dean hesitated, uncertain what was going on.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>He was treated to an amused, rueful look.</p><p>“I’m beginning to understand why my ass hurt so much.”</p><p>“Oh, come on, you’ve seen me naked before. You know how big I am.” Dean protested.</p><p>“I honestly don’t study you long enough to work out how big your cock is when aroused, Dean!” </p><p>“This coming from a guy who’s competing with racehorses for dick size?” Dean countered immediately, then hesitated as he realised that this was both a ridiculous argument and one he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to continue. But it was true, Sam was a big boy in all manner of ways, and Dean was pretty damned glad he wasn’t trying that on for size without a whole lot of lube and prep work. </p><p>“Right. Right.” Dean ran his hands through his hair as he tried to focus. “Okay. Let’s grab the tapes, okay? Or files, or whatever we have.”</p><p>Sam was back at the mirror examining a couple of the hand mark bruises with an unreadable expression. Dean winced internally again. Okay, now those might be a little more difficult to explain to neighbours or fellow hunters, but again, who was going to see anything? As long as they were consensually placed - and dear god, let them be consensually placed, please, he was genuinely begging here - then anything went. </p><p>Sighing softly, he headed toward the main room and the prospect of security files. They’d only really just put them up and some of the rooms weren’t covered but at least it offered a start. Walking into the map room and there were already indications of a potential scene of the crime, with a couple of empty bottles sitting forlornly and forgotten on the table, and a half empty glass and another on a side table testament to the fact said bottles weren’t exactly ornamental. </p><p>Grabbing hold of the laptop where Sam had a tendency to leave it, Dean opened it and sat himself gingerly down on the leather bound chair as he did so. Okay, perhaps clothes would have been a better option, but there was something weirdly bad - naughty-bad - about sitting naked on very cool leather. Time was also of the essence and there were bound to be other such noble excuses. Truth be told, he couldn’t be bothered. Again, distinct lack of neighbours. </p><p>“Found anything?” Sam was apparently in the nudist camp as well, although he had grabbed hold of a pair of tight boxer briefs that managed to cover everything and yet leave little to the imagination. Dean glanced at him for a few seconds before remembering what he was doing and turning back to the screen to pull up a few files.</p><p>“Right. This room. Let’s try eleven.” he scrolled through to the selected time. And yep, there they were. The alcohol had already mostly vanished. One glass had dropped to the floor, where presumably one of them had enough sense to pick it up at a later time and put it on the side table. And-</p><p>-and-</p><p>“What is it?” Sam said, having noticed the expression on Dean’s face. And that was a question. Dean opened his mouth, hesitated, and then pulled a face instead. Sam eyed him suspiciously, and then moved to stand behind him and watch for himself.</p><p>There was a lot more silence. They were definitely over their allocated limit today already.</p><p>“Is that… are you fucking me across the map table?” Sam said slowly.</p><p>“Either that or you’re taking a really close look at north Africa.” Dean replied and then regretted the comment as Sam shot him a hard look. “Sorry.”</p><p>He cast a look back at the screen. They were both mostly clothed, but Sam’s pants had been shoved half way down his thighs, and Dean’s shirt looked almost ripped. The angle was from above at a slight tilt, allowing a rough idea of what the hell was going on but it wasn’t ideal and that was probably for the best; Sam had propped himself up with his elbows, one hand clenched in a fist and his head tipped forward enough that his hair was shielding his face, but there was clearly no attempt to escape. He himself was already into a damned good thrusting movement, hard but steady, and Sam’s body rocked with the impact. One of Dean’s hands was placed in the middle of Sam’s shoulders in what appeared to be a symbolic gesture to pin him down - either that or somewhere to put his hands, anyway - and the other clutching his hip. Sam’s ass was tilted upward, and sure, he could only see a brief flash of skin but that flash looked appealing. </p><p>Probably not the thing to think. Definitely not the thing to say. </p><p>They didn’t have sound but Dean was pretty sure the ‘oh my god’ and ‘mmgh’ and other words of a celestial nature were probably engaged. </p><p>He cast another uncertain look at his brother, who had been watching the screen with a bewildered expression, then Dean coughed and rewound to a few hours earlier. Please god let them not still be fucking, that would be insane even for him and yet his pulled inner thigh muscles whispered that something interesting must have happened. </p><p>And thank fuck for that. Nine o’clock and video-Dean was sprawled in one of the chairs, hand on a glass, and video-Sam was prowling around reading from what looked like one of the heavy leather books that seemed to grow like mushrooms in the library. Current-Sam squinted at the screen before beginning a quick search of the map room.</p><p>“D’you recognise that book?” Dean queried.</p><p>“New one on me.” Sam was prowling around, gently lifting and moving things around in search, and even dropping to his hands and knees in order to double check under tables and chairs. Dean glanced at him, swallowed, and then looked back at the screen. Fuck sake, he was turning into more of a filthy pervert than even he had given himself credit for. This was his brother. Sure, his brother had one of the tightest, firmest asses the world had to offer, but that really wasn’t the point.</p><p>Fuck.</p><p>Trying to recover, Dean attempted to focus on the tape instead.</p><p>“I don’t remember anything about that book, or this session,” Dean waved a hand toward the screen. “ And that’s pretty bad, even for me. I don’t forget the whole damned evening, just the later bits. There’s got to be something messed up going on.”</p><p>The tape was continuing to play, adding more weirdness on top of weirdness. Video-Sam was reading something out loud, one finger on the page as though he was a kid again, before lifting his head up and grinning. Video-Dean laughed and poured himself another glass, clearly offering his brother one as well. Video-Sam, being a good Video-Sam, shook his head and continued to walk around the room with his nose buried in the book. </p><p>“Whatever it is, you seem really engrossed,” Dean commented, and attempted to zoom in on said book only to discover that the pixels had other viewpoints on this. Well, it was brown and book-shaped. Excellent investigative work there. He slowly began to move the feed forward. Ten minutes. Then twenty. Video-Dean had drunk another couple of glasses, Video Sam had placed the book on the map table and had started talking about something in an animated way, including hand gestures.</p><p>“Looks like you’re either doing a ritual really energetically, or messing up YMCA.” Dean commented after a few moments. “Or charades. Could be charades.”</p><p>Sam sighed and pushed himself gracefully from the floor, padding softly over to Dean and peering over his shoulder. Dean was immediately aware of the light scent that Sam used as body spray, and tried to ignore it in the same way as he’d ignored it for the past god knows how many years. Why was it so damned hard today?! He must be going nuts. Nuttier, anyway.</p><p>“I’m trying to convince you to do something,” Sam said finally.</p><p>“Oh.” Dean thought about this. “Uh. Was this something you?”</p><p>Sam hesitated. “I don’t know. But that looks kinda matter of fact, don’t you think? I mean, if I was going to try to seduce my own brother I’d probably do it a different way.”</p><p>“Are there rules for seducing your own brother?”</p><p>“Other than ‘don’t do it?’” Sam chuckled softly and shrugged. “C’mon. I’d have hoped that you’d need more than just ‘hey, let’s fuck over the map table’,”</p><p>The way Dean was currently feeling that was definitely debatable. He made a non-committal grunting noise which he hoped could go either way, and stared back at the screen. Still, the conversation was a nagging one in his mind.</p><p>“So what different way would you use?” he asked as casually as he could. Sam made a soft snorting noise of humour.</p><p>“Can’t say I’ve planned it out.” He paused, looking up at the ceiling briefly as he ran it through his mind. “Uh. Probably more touching. Low voices. And I’d have given you at least two pies beforehand.”</p><p>“So I’m so stuffed I can’t run away?” Dean asked in amusement, then poked a finger toward the bottle. “Alcohol does the same thing, and you often get some impromptu singing at the same time. Although I can't argue with a couple of slices of pie.”</p><p>They fell silent as they continued to watch the screen. Video-Sam had stopped waving his hands around and had moved closer to the still sprawled Dean, pouring him another drink and then crouching down by the chair with what was clearly an earnest type posture as he continued to talk. </p><p>“Well, you definitely want something.” Dean commented. “If you were a dog I’d say you were in desperate need for a walk.”</p><p>Video Sam gestured toward the book, before both of their Video selves turned to stare at it as though it might suddenly stand up and tapdance across the table. Video Dean shook his head, then rubbed his forehead with a hand. Dean forwarded the recording a little further, and let it go as Video-Sam finally stood and held out his hand to Dean.</p><p>They watched in silence, waiting. And then finally Video Dean reached out with his hand and slowly pulled himself up; the glass fell on the way up, rolling across the floor and stopping next to a bookcase, but neither of them seemed to notice as they gazed at each other from a very short distance away.</p><p>“Uh. What are we doing?” Sam murmured.</p><p>“That,” said Dean glumly. “Is normally my fight or fuck posture. And I’m pretty sure I’m not in a fighting mood.”</p><p>There was another long pause. Dean realised he was holding his breath and forced himself to release it, feeling a little prickle of embarrassment in doing so. This was ridiculous. This was more than ridiculous. This was ridiculously ridiculous, and he was about to comment such when Video Sam cleared the already short distance, cupped Dean’s face gently with his hands and pulled him into a kiss.</p><p>A long kiss.</p><p>A really long kiss, and man, surely they needed air by now? </p><p>“Oh.” Dean said. Well, at least the instigator seemed to be Sam, which made his mind a whole lot happier. This was more than could be said for Sam beside him, who seemed to be frozen in place.</p><p>“Um.” Sam said, and Dean had to remind himself that Sam was supposed to be the more eloquent out of them. His brother folded his arms across his bare chest and looked uncomfortable. Dean was regretting the lack of underwear as his lower half decided that this was a damned good time to get interested, and fucking hell, where was a cushion when you needed it?</p><p>“There’s probably a good reason,” Sam said hastily. </p><p>“Oh. Yeah. Undoubtedly,” Dean replied, a little gruffer than intended.</p><p>“It’s probably some way to summon something.”</p><p>“Well, that’s less comforting.” </p><p>“Or perhaps it was a test.” Sam suggested, clearly going for wilder suggestions. Dean made another soft possibly-yes noise, unable to think of any tests that required kissing short of checking a lipstick poison was working correctly. They watched the screen a little longer.</p><p>“You’re .. ah… unbuttoning my shirt,” Dean said after a while. Or at least the first few, until Video-Dean suddenly snapped into action and almost shoved Sam backward, the video Sam’s ass hitting the surface of the map table as Video-Dean grabbed hold of his brother’s shirt and pulled him into a harder version of the kiss. This clearly was fully appreciated as evidenced by the arms pulling him closer, the hand that ran through Dean’s hair. </p><p>“Okay, let’s skip a bit,” Sam said hastily, and leaned across to achieve that goal. Dean was aware of his brother inches away and another blow of the scent and had to remind his body to cool down. His body wasn’t feeling in the mood for instructions. In the end he looked away and tried to recite a recipe for tacos in his head.</p><p>“Oh.” Sam’s voice was small and drew him back. Dean stared at him for a moment in confusion, then across at the monitor in uncertainty. He frowned, unsure what he was seeing.</p><p>“..what’s going on?” he frowned at himself; on his knees, Sam having been spun round with his hands on the table, pants down, knees splayed, bent over and ass out as Dean’s video self held Sam’s buttocks open in order to-</p><p>“...,” Dean had no words. He tried again a few seconds later and still had no words, and he could see the video form of Sam arching his back in sensation as tongue clearly applied itself to a tight, sensitive spot and holy shit, possibly poorly phrased. He made a soft whimper at the back of his throat and slowly sat back against the chair, eyes feeling wider than Bambi’s. </p><p>Another very long silence. </p><p>“You seem good at that,” Sam said finally, his voice almost a whisper as though not to draw attention to them. </p><p>“Great.” Dean shifted position uncomfortably. Sure, he’d done it before but not often, and definitely not with a whole lot of showers and cleaning and poking beforehand. “I…. what the hell is in that book that means this is an obvious first step?!”</p><p>“I .. well, perhaps it was the drink,” Sam suggested. Dean shot him a look.</p><p>“Sammy, I drink a lot. If I stuck my tongue up someone’s ass every time I had a drink I’d … well, I’m not sure where I’m going with that sentence, but you get my point,” he waved a hand toward the monitor. “I mean, that’s special occasion level! I mean, do you-,”</p><p>“-have a particular thing for my brother’s tongue licking my asshole?” Sam returned the look with one of his own. “Amazingly not, Dean.”</p><p>“Hey man, just saying you have a whole range of kinky shit I don’t know about,” Dean raised his hands. “And looks like you were the one trying to convince me.”</p><p>“Didn’t take much, did it?” Sam drawled. Dean made a soft pft noise of dismissal.</p><p>“Irrelevant. Your suggestion. I was clearly just being a good brother.” </p><p>They looked at each other, and Dean had to concede that this probably wasn’t the line he wanted to go with. Sam sighed softly and looked back at the monitor, before wincing heavily. Dean stared at him for a moment and then, slowly, risked a glance at the screen. Okay. So that’s where a couple of hand bruises came from, then. And could have been much worse, it looked like he had checked for his belt half way through.</p><p>“This doesn’t make sense,” Sam whispered again, unhappily. “I mean-,”</p><p>“Yeah. I know.” Dean wasn’t sure he wanted to watch any more, only there was a weird draw to it in the same way he’d desperately wanted to see the gory bits in horror films despite his head telling him not to. “And whatever this is, looks like we’re both in on it. Agree for no blame, yeah?”</p><p>Sam let out a soft, shaky breath. “I guess so.”</p><p>Dean hesitated, and found a whole new frown. “You guess so? You think this is my fault?”</p><p>“No. I think it’s mine.” Sam ran his hand through his hair, his eyes concerned. “I … uh. Well, I’m feeling a bit..,”</p><p>He frowned at Sam for a while, then suddenly realised what the feeling was going to be. Oh. Well, that he knew about. Dean chuckled softly and leaned back in his chair.</p><p>“If you’re feeling what I think you’re feeling, then unfortunately said feeling is mutual.” He cast a quick look at Sam but his boxers were managing to hold down the worst of it from the angle he could see, and no wonder Sam was being so careful to keep behind him. Even semi hard, Sam was an impressive sight. Full erection could probably be used as a lightning rod. </p><p>Thankfully Sam was still trying to work out what Dean was saying rather than notice where his eyes had turned to.</p><p>“... what?”</p><p>Dean reluctantly waved a hand toward his lap. Yeah, he should have brought some sort of cover up, but who knew it would suddenly spring into action? There was notable lack of noise from Sam, which was probably the most natural situation for being faced with your brother’s erection that had been generated from watching essentially incest porn. </p><p>“Oh.” </p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“You like-,”</p><p>“Apparently.”</p><p>“Oh.”</p><p>Another silence, a long, meaty silence as they tried to work out whatever the next step needed to be. Dean shifted himself in the chair, the ache in his lower half even worse now he was conscious that his little brother was in a similar state. He glanced back at the screen only to find that they’d moved onto full penetration, and he had to shut his eyes quick before that just got messy.</p><p>“Do we need to see the rest of this?” he complained. “I mean, we can probably fill in the gaps.”</p><p>“We must have moved into your room at some point,” Sam leaned back across to fiddle with the laptop, and man, that wasn’t helping either. There was Dean, trying to be good, and all he could see when looking across was one of Sam’s perky nipples at eye height, and his excessively toned body. Stupid sexy Sam.</p><p>“Okay, we moved into my room, probably kissing and fucking the whole way, let’s kinda just let it go?” he pleaded. “I don’t need to know the fine details.”</p><p>Hell, he was <i>scared</i> of the fine details. He knew himself, he knew what he was capable of, and clearly Sam wasn’t some beacon of innocence either. There were scratch marks and bite marks across both of them, Dean reckoned he could live without looking those types of thing in the eye. Sexual exploration did better in the shadows. He wasn’t a prude but there were some things you just didn’t do.</p><p>Or at least admit to, anyway. </p><p>“We kinda need to know where that book went.” Sam was at least apologetic, and the relief that Dean had when he stood back up vanished as Sam moved a little closer and suddenly nipple was exchanged with something much meatier in all manners of the word. Dean closed his eyes again. Oh, fuck no. That close to Sam’s nearly fully erect junk was just causing him to have a private meltdown, and he went back to his taco recipe just in case it helped.</p><p>It didn’t. Tacos were bastards anyway.</p><p>Well, there was a Winchester way of dealing with this type of emotional stuff. If in doubt, withdraw. Or, aka, run away.</p><p>“Right, you go searching. I’m gonna be over here,” Dean stood up, tried not to look Sam in the eye at his own painfully hard failings, and went to lurk at the other side of the room. Half of him wanted to go grab a robe, but equally that felt like he was quitting somehow. He folded his arms across his chest and sulked briefly as Sam eyed him carefully before turning back to the laptop in front of him.</p><p>After about five minutes, Dean wasn’t sure whether leaving things to his imagination was a good idea. He started to pace, back and forth slowly, as he watched Sam intently. His brother seemed to be lost in the stream, the occasional wince showing in his eyes, or an expression that suggested that this wasn’t so much research as watching a soap opera. </p><p>“Well?” he demanded roughly. Sam glanced at him then immediately had to look away. Oh, well that was encouraging. Dean growled and closed his eyes again. “Okay, fine. What did I do now?”</p><p>Sam pulled an embarrassed face. “Stuff.”</p><p>Did he want to know? Dean groaned internally. He could guess, certainly. The claw marks wouldn’t be on the map table, oh no, they’d need more space for a good roll and tumble game, and once he’d pulled out of Sam’s tightness then they’d probably have a brief period to pause and recover and-</p><p>“Wait. Have we finished in the map room yet?” he lifted his head.</p><p>“Not quite. I think I’ve come.” Sam glanced at the screen, and Dean was briefly amused by the look of realisation that crossed his brother’s face from having to say that type of sentence. Sam sighed and looked back. “And you’re still going, although if I was a betting type of guy I’d say not for much longer.”</p><p>There was another pause of a few seconds before Sam made another little noise, a cross between a pleasurable sigh and a groan, and that wasn’t doing Dean’s mood any good whatsoever.</p><p>“And there you go.” Sam was silent for a few moments, before a small, fond smile crossed his features. Dean eyed him suspiciously.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Mm? Oh, nothing. You’re just .. kinda sweet.” </p><p>Dean’s eyebrow rose to demonstrate that this wasn’t necessarily either calming his nerves or answering his question. Sam huffed a laugh.</p><p>“You’ve just pulled me up and given me a sweet kiss and you’re snuggling.”</p><p>“I don’t snuggle,” Could his reputation be any more damaged this day? Dean sulked. </p><p>“Looking at compelling evidence to suggest you do.” Sam replied softly, although there was no malice in the sentence and a soft look was aimed in his direction. “I can show you if you want.”</p><p>Dean growled softly then shook his head. Okay, fine. He’d done worse on that tape, cuddling up to his baby brother after a list of dubious sex acts was probably the least he could do. However, this was sounding like they were getting to the main piece of the puzzle, and he cautiously approached the laptop as though it was an unexploded bomb.</p><p>“Okay. So we’ve finished that session, and done some hugging. Have you gone back to the book to check whether the task is done?” he edged behind Sam to get a look at the screen. He was conscious of being back to really, really close, and even more conscious that he could happily snuggle or whatever else it was from this position. Dean bit his lip before raising his eyes to the screen again. </p><p>Apparently there was a lot of snuggling. Dean winced in embarrassment as he watched himself gently lift Sam’s chin and gently press a kiss to his lips, their foreheads touching for a moment like some weird scene out of a nature programme before they finally - <i>finally</i> released each other. His other self went toward the last of the alcohol bottles, and Video-Sammy headed slightly off screen. </p><p>“That’s it,” the Sam next to him said, a little urgently. “The book.”  </p><p>“Normal people would have gone for a shower, just sayin’, Sammy.” Dean leaned a little closer and fell silent as screen-Sam flicked through a few more pages. He could see himself drain another glass and watch him silently, a little too attentively for Dean’s liking. Finally there was movement; the camera hadn’t quite captured Sam fully, but Dean was watching his own expression for the information.</p><p>“Why am I getting the impression there’s a Part B?” he said slowly. </p><p>“Need to follow the book,” Sam began to flick between screens as their past selves made their way through the doorway with the steady footsteps of People With Purpose (™), followed by a noise of exasperation. “Man, I’ve only installed a few cameras so far. We’re gonna lose them. I mean, us.”</p><p>“Please tell me they’re not heading to the dungeon.” Dean prayed to whichever god or whatever happened to be listening. Sam hesitated.</p><p>“That might be a good call,” he said slowly.</p><p>“Speak for yourself.” Dean muttered, but stood back as Sam rose and headed briskly toward the exit and the corridors. Scrubbing his face with a hand, he groaned and fell in behind him, trying to keep his gaze away from any awkward or encouraging parts of Sam’s anatomy. This wasn’t particularly successful, since most of Sam’s anatomy was pretty encouraging, even down to his toes. The woes of being a sexual deviant. </p><p>“Keep your eyes open,” Sam advised as they travelled.</p><p>“Possibly.” Dean allowed, and instead took time to study their surroundings as they passed. Nothing much unusual here. Same old stuff - literally - and Dean couldn’t see anything different as they moved into the archive room. Still, at least the shelves were still there, no big gaping hole to the dungeon, and man he was going to have to watch how he described things in his head otherwise he was going to go crazy. No big gaping holes here, no sir. Fuck sake.</p><p>“Still nothing,” Sam was scanning every possible surface for signs of said book, and then gave a suspicious look at the shelves leading to the dungeon. Dean sagged a little internally. Oh, dear god, no. Curse his ability to land himself so far in the shit that he needed a snorkel to survive.</p><p>“C’mon, we haven’t been in there! Who shuts the door in the middle of a sex scene?” he complained, waving a hand toward it. “I barely remember to breathe!”</p><p>“Perhaps I did it.” Sam was already busy opening it with speedy hands, speedy, dexterous hands, hands that would look damned good busy with-</p><p>Dean closed his eyes briefly and reminded himself again he was clearly the worst brother ever. By the time he’d opened them, the door was ajar and Sam was already prowling around the darkened dungeon scanning it with a dedication that was slightly worrying. Dean sighed and reluctantly trailed after him, trying not to focus on Sam’s back or ass or anything else. </p><p>“Anything?” he asked. It was a dungeon, it wasn’t as though there were many places a book could land without being blatantly obvious. Sam sagged slightly and looked back, a forlorn puppy look in his eyes behind hair that had flopped over his face, and Dean had a sudden need for a cold shower. </p><p>“We’re running out of places it could be. It wasn’t in your room, right?”</p><p>“I’d have noticed something weird like a book in there,” Dean agreed.</p><p>“And there’s only so many places we’re likely to have ..,” Sam did a complicated hand gesture. “.. so I don’t know where to look next.”</p><p>“Yeah. Awkward.” Dean began to prowl around the room himself, running his hand over the wall of the dungeon and feeling the thankfully cool surface under his palm. He reached one of the manacles hanging on the wall and hesitated, before forcing himself to turn back.</p><p>Sam was watching him intently, although immediately looked away as soon as he realised that his brother had spotted him.</p><p>“... what?” Dean eyed him.</p><p>“Nothing.” Sam didn’t move but equally didn’t meet his eyes either. Dean doubted the validity of his statement. And he was really, really regretting not having clothes on, and yet he still couldn’t quite bring himself to get some. Why was that? Why did that even make sense?</p><p>“Mm,” he said. Sam finally glanced back at him, and it was both apologetic and starving hungry, and Dean suddenly realised how focused his baby brother could get when he truly put his mind to it. And to think for years he’d imagined his brother as a sweet little innocent-if-argumentative thing. The man in front of him looked like he ate porn for breakfast, with added cream. Probably non-dairy, too.</p><p>Sam smiled at him gently and began to walk around the chair in the centre, trailing his hand across the smooth back as he continued to watch Dean hungrily. And man, that was not an image that he wanted to see right about now. That was the sort of image that you thought about guiltily in the night instead.</p><p>“You want to say somethin’, Sammy?” he said, gruffer than he was expecting. Sam, being Sam, ignored the possible threat and continued to give him a tender smile that Dean didn’t even want to attempt to decipher for fear of getting it so very wrong. Didn’t matter that his brother looked like sex on legs, just mattered that there was a very clear understanding on how fucked up things could get. </p><p>“Just wondering what we did in here. I started putting the camera in but never got around to sorting it,” </p><p>Dean glanced at the chair, glanced at Sam, glanced at the manacles, and decided to stop there before his vision added so many suggestions that his mind exploded. He growled uncomfortably.</p><p>“Stuff. We did stuff.” he lifted his head and fixed Sam with the fiercest expression he could muster. “What the fuck are you doing?”</p><p>“Me?” Sam’s innocent expression was first class, eyes slightly wide, mouth open just a touch to offer a naive innocence that was all lies. Dean gave him a look. Sam continued it for about a second before giving up and offering a soft and faintly embarrassed laugh.</p><p>“I …. Well, I don’t really know. It seemed a good idea at the time.”</p><p>“And ‘it’ is what, in this context?” Dean prowled closer, dangerously, feeling like a wolf approaching the world’s largest bunny. Sam’s grin still held the embarrassment but he wasn’t shifting, and Dean had to admire his determination. Sam deliberately let his gaze lower, clearly taking in Dean’s still bare form, before returning to meet Dean’s eyes lazily. An eyebrow rose.</p><p>“Stuff. I guess.”</p><p>“You’re gonna need to be super explicit here, Sam.”</p><p>“Getting formal in your old age.”</p><p>“Getting sensible, anyway.” They were only a meter away, and most of that was down to the chair between them. Dean waited, and then growled softly. “Sammy. Start talking,”</p><p>“D’you think this is part of how it all went down? This type of talk?” Sam mused. “You know. Last night. Originally.”</p><p>“You frustrating the hell out of me? Sure, probably. Wouldn’t be the first time.” Dean drawled, folding his arms across his chest and standing in a way that he hoped didn’t look too Pirate King. “Is this you suggesting we -,”</p><p>He ground to a halt. Certain things were really hard to say. No wonder charades were involved the first time. Sam looked a little flustered, but shrugged.</p><p>“.. I think so.”</p><p>Dean glanced around them, then looked at the chair and its random chains and then back at Sam slowly. “In here?”</p><p>“Well, we do have a dungeon. It seems crazy not to try it out,” Sam said in a very reasonable voice despite the words being more than a little crazy themselves. </p><p>“Pretty sure it wasn’t designed with that in mind,”</p><p>“Really? Would you build a dungeon without it crossing your mind in some way?” Sam looked at him. Dean thought about that, then pulled a small face.</p><p>“... no..,”</p><p>“There we go.” Sam was triumphant. “It’s our legacy.”</p><p>“Pretty sure our legacy didn’t revolve around sex in a dungeon as well.” Dean advised, but he was fighting a losing battle here, and one he was pretty sure he didn’t want to win. He paused and stared at him for a moment. “I gotta say, out of the pair of us I assumed it would be me suggesting the crazy sex stuff.”</p><p>“Dean, I like researching. I have pages of crazy sex stuff,” Sam replied in his reasonable voice. “That’s why you should never trust a librarian.” </p><p>“I never trust librarians anyway. They’ve got that stern thing going on.” Dean thought about that, and grinned. “Sexy, though.”</p><p>And they were getting sidetracked, and Dean reckoned the reason they were getting sidetracked was that neither of them wanted to be the first one to move. There was no point in denying that he was interested, his body was stating that all too well and with a gesture of its own, and by the dark hungry look in Sam’s eyes that was clearly noted. </p><p>“Thought you were too sore,” Dean said softly. Sam shrugged carelessly and idly picked up the manacles attached to the chair, watching him steadily. Dean’s gaze fell on the chair for a moment and then back up again, an eyebrow rising in genuine question. </p><p>“M’not a dog, Sam. I don’t sit on command,” </p><p>The innocence in Sam’s eyes was again both impressive and a lie. “Are you sure you don’t want to make an exception?” </p><p>Dean growled softly in his throat, but it was the soft noise of annoyed defeat. He ran his hand through his hair and then let said arm drop helplessly, before fixing his brother with a hard glare that did absolutely nothing to the somewhat smug expression on Sam’s face. </p><p>“Bitch.”</p><p>Sam’s pleased expression didn’t even allow him the customary ‘jerk’ back, the hungry looking entering a full on starvation mode as Dean prowled forward and all but flopped himself into the chair. He was startled to find that the manacles were not just for show, as Sam seized him calmly and deftly and shackled him tightly to the chair. </p><p>“Hey!” Dean tested the strength and found the whole thing pretty damned stubborn. Sam lost the briefs on the way around, his hand gently stroking down Dean’s face lightly as he made the softest of shushing noises. </p><p>“Just because you’re on top doesn’t mean you’re in charge.” Sam’s voice was so fairy light that it could have been used to read children’s bedtime stories. Dean snarled at him and tried to move his arms. This, unsurprisingly, failed.</p><p>“Bastard,” </p><p>“We’re in a dungeon, Dean. What were you expecting, chocolates and flattering lights?” Sam chuckled and straddled his brother’s legs, holding himself up as Sam rested his arms on Dean’s shoulders and looked at him, pleased. Dean growled another few choices curses under his breath, but that was mostly for show. Okay, so it was entirely for show, and he kneed upward to strike Sam in the ass. </p><p>“You gonna get on with it?”</p><p>Their mouths were inches apart, Sam’s arms still draped loosely around his neck like some ye olde romantic heroine, eyes studying each other as though engaged in a particularly unusual game of chess. Dean tried not to focus on Sam’s mouth but man, was it hard, the need so bad that he would have dragged him onto his hard length if his arms weren’t tethered. </p><p>Sam leaned forward, closing the gap between them and pressing the softest, gentlest kiss onto Dean’s mouth that sent a shiver of beautiful agony through him.</p><p>“You old romantic,” he whispered back, and slowly, gently eased himself onto the blunt tip of Dean’s cock. The sensations rippled across Sam’s expression, his jaw tightening and his eyes closing for a moment as his body gradually accepted the thickness inside, and Dean would have watched it in fascination had his own body given him a percentage of his mind that wasn’t focused on how hot and tight Sam was gripping him. So damned good. </p><p>“Fuck, Dean.” Sam breathed, finally settled fully on Dean’s lap, and he hadn’t got an answer to that, not in the slightest. Right now they would rest for a moment, foreheads touching as they desperately tried to recover their breathing and their sanity, but then?</p><p>Then the fun would really start.</p><p>*</p><p>The sounds of sex echoed down the corridor happily, echoes and groans and growls and the occasional yell. Oh yeah, it was hard, and hot, and needy, and good for the soul. And he should know, he was an archangel after all. Souls were his sort of thing.</p><p>Gabriel grinned to himself as he strolled along the corridor, the book in one hand and the other hand swinging as though he was a five year old child skipping to class. Kids these days, so suggestible, and <i>anyone</i> could have seen that they needed something to rid them of frustration. This was probably a blessing, in a very weird package and if you squinted at it from an angle. </p><p>Yeah, the Winchester boys needed a bit of relaxation, and they’d never get there by themselves. Setting them up was <i>clearly</i> the right thing to do.</p><p>The grin grew wider.</p><p>Probably.</p><p>END</p>
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